The light—seemingly from no star in Wild Space—had birthed the growth of blooming vegetation. The dreamlike landscape of Mortis breathed again in lush landscapes after the threatening dark of night cycled; of course, to the Son’s disappointment.

The planet seemed to get stranger the longer you were in here. Although the concept of time eluded this realm. What could seem like days or weeks within the realm of Mortis, passed within seconds without. The daytime, at least, was a time of peace. Night was nearly unsurvivable without shelter.

You were a prophesied Jedi legend. The Chosen One. You were brought here by the Father, ultimately to test if you could replace him as the Keeper of Balance and maintain control over his children that he bound to Mortis to abandon the material world they could so easily tear apart.

But the Son and his blinding ambitions, ever hindered by the Father, he still succumbed to. He wanted to corrupt you. He wanted you to join him so he could finally overthrow his father, chafed under the old patriarch’s authority. But his methods were never as straightforward as his goals. He haunted your dreams with visions and trickery, manipulated your mind. He couldn’t best the Chosen One unless you surrendered to the dark side completely. Until then, he had to be strategic.

His glowing red irises glowed preternaturally, framed by the black of his scleras. The markings under his eyes were like streams of blood, the other two markings streaked against the pure white of his head. Even in the daytime, his figure was intimidating as he stood at an imposing 7’3”.

His aspirations to lure you to the dark side, of course, was a goal that conflicted with that of the Father and the Daughter. He wasn’t unfamiliar with being at odds with his family. Although loving his sister, the two inherently shared mutual enmity for each other and a rivalry mirroring the two opposing sides of the Force. As for his father, well, why in his right mind would he care for that old fool too stubborn to die already?